Harmonies of a Second Chance
by SecretEngima
Summary: A collection of one-shots about the things that happened between the chapters of A Melody of Second Chances. Expect pranks, mysteries, and fluff. Feel free to come read, but beware of flying wrenches from angry Medics of Doom, over paranoid Security Officers, Decepticons, and mischievous twin trouble times two.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi there everyone! So, since I'm going to be busy for the rest of November and am not sure if I will be able to update A Melody of Second Chances again after today, I thought now would be the perfect time to finally upload this. This is a companion story to A Melody of Second Chances and will be comprised of moments and escapades that I wanted to put into the main story, but couldn't for one reason or another. This story will NOT have regular updates, just warning everyone of that right now. I will update it whenever I have the time, inclination, and inspiration to write another chapter for it. Anyway, I had wanted to write the reactions of various characters when they read Optimus Prime's report on who Starwish and the others would be staying with, so that one-shot gets to be the first chapter in this story.**

**A nod of credit to Shadow fang the black wolf for giving me inspiration on this chapter's title. When I read your the part of your review that said, "Now sit back and watch the fireworks from the reactions to their assignments." I couldn't help but think how accurate a title the fireworks part would make. So, thanks!**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. The only things I own are the plot and my OCs Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, Buffer, Motioncap, and Flash Fire.**

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><p><strong>Reports and Fireworks<strong>

**(Set just after chapter 6 and before chapter 7)**

First Aid was calmly reorganizing a shelf of medical tools, the mindless work easing his wires and cables from a cycle of work. It had been surprisingly busy.

First, Chromia had dragged her sparkmate in, insisting he see one of the medics over his hip joint, which was giving him trouble again. Ironhide had protested the entire time First Aid worked on him, nearly swearing several times but luckily stopping before the words got out. _Good thing too, I'd hate to see what would happen if the twinlings started shouting expletives at Ratchet whenever they were in trouble. That wouldn't end well._

After First Aid had seen to Ironhide, Jazz had mysteriously popped in complaining of a servo malfunction, claiming the offending appendage had a slow response time. While Ratchet had scanned the mech for what was wrong, Jazz had happily chatted with a Starwish. Of course, when Ratchet hadn't been able to find anything wrong with Jazz's servo, he had sent the saboteur packing with a wrench to the helm. First Aid privately suspected that the smaller mech had simply been looking for an excuse to visit Starwish.

Then the twinlings had disassembled one of their Energon Fusion converters and run away with the parts, setting off a long chase that had taken the combined efforts of himself, Ratchet, and Starwish to finally end. First Aid secretly wondered if someone was smuggling tools in to the little trouble makers just so they could pull stunts like that.

After Starwish had convinced Ratchet to let them out to explore or find some other outlet for their energy, Jazz had volunteered to keep an optic on them while Ironhide, Chromia and the others who knew of their existence kept watch to make sure no one entered the restricted area around the Rec Room. But then Ratchet had called all senior officers to an emergency meeting and left First Aid in charge of keeping an optic on the patients.

First Aid vented softly as he remembered Zip and Track discovering the energon dispenser in the corner of the Rec Room. Not something he wanted to ever repeat, to be sure.

His thoughts were jerked back to the present when he heard the medbay doors slide open, allowing the irate voices of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe be clearly heard. First Aid turned to face them and was not at all surprised to see that they had dents and scuffs. Sunstreaker looked very close to offlining his twin while Sideswipe made excuses over whatever it was that had started the trouble, "-Totally not my fault, Sunny! Prime must be joking, that's all!"

Sunstreaker snarled wordlessly at Sideswipe before shifting his gaze sharply to First Aid, "Need a fix."

First Aid raised an optic ridge, "I can see that. Oh well, both of you on the berths over there and I'll see what I can do."

As First Aid started to work on the two, still arguing, twins, Motioncap trotted in, "Hey Aid! Where's Ratchet? I've got a report for him from Prime."

First Aid didn't even look up from firmly pounding out a dent in Sunstreaker's armor, "In his office. Careful, he isn't in the best of moods."

Motioncap snorted, "Is he ever? I'll be quick." First Aid grunted an acknowledgment as he carefully finished his dent removal and handed the armor piece back to Sunstreaker. _That meeting must have been important if it requires a follow up report._ About ten kliks later, First Aid heard Motioncap trot out of the medbay again, his report delivery complete. First Aid wasn't surprised, the Autobot Runner was always fast when on the job.

Moving on to Sideswipe, First Aid was just adjusting a wire that had gotten knocked loose in the mech's shoulder when a loud, explosive shout rattled his concentration. Sideswipe yowled as the wire was tweaked incorrectly, sending a spasm of pain up his shoulder and neck while First Aid leaped away with a yelp of surprise at the static jolt the misaligned wire had sparked. _What in the Allspark?_

Ratchet came storming out of his office, the look on his faceplates dark enough to scare even Ironhide. Stomping past First Aid, a datapad clenched in one servo, Ratchet was snarling, "If Prime is serious about this … this mockery, I am going to offline him!" Pausing when he saw the twins, he unsubspaced a wrench and shook it threateningly at them, "And then I'll come for you two!" With that, he was gone, striding angrily out of the medbay and off, presumably, to Optimus Prime's location.

First Aid blinked a few times before turning to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who were both looking terrified, "Do you have any idea what that was about?"

Sunstreaker's faceplates morphed into a scowl, "It's all Sideswipe's fault."

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><p>Ultra Magnus inserted the data-stick Motioncap had just delivered to him into a datapad and began reading its contents. Optimus had already commed him that he was sending Motioncap with a list of what the refugees new living arrangements would be after they were released from the medbay. Reading the first entry, Hardwire's, he nodded thoughtfully, it was a good idea to pair the large newcomer with the easy going ex-Wrecker.<p>

His optic fell on the next entry, the twin younglings Zipline and Fast Track, and his frame stiffened, _he cannot be serious. Giving them to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe?_ Ultra Magnus pressed his lip components together and did his best to puzzle out his Prime's logic. After all, it would not be in the report if Prime was not perfectly serious about it. Therefor, his leader had a logical, thought out reason for the pairing.

_Taking care of younglings would cut down their time to plan and execute pranks … Ironhide and Ratchet would most assuredly make sure they actually took care of the younglings. It also would serve a stark lesson in responsibility._ Ultra Magnus nodded to himself, those had to be the reasons. It would definitely be tricky in the beginning, getting the two front-liners to properly care for their charges, but in the long run, he could see the benefits it could provide.

Ultra Magnus scrolled down to the bottom of the report and instantly froze. Blinking, he reread the section, sure that he had simply misread it the first time. Much to his growing confusion and consternation, it stayed the same as before. _Impossible._

Subspacing the datapad, Ultra Magnus stood up firmly and strode out of his office for Optimus Prime's. There was no possibility that the report was correct. He could **not** have just been assigned to be the guardian of the femling Starwish, it simply was not possible.

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><p>Prowl looked over the report he had just received from Motioncap thoroughly, going over it meticulously multiple times before accessing its coding to ensure it wasn't a forgery. It wasn't, not that Prowl really expected it to be a forgery, but it paid to be thorough.<p>

With an exasperated flick of his doorwings, Prowl stood up and set out for Prime's office. Someone would have to be there to stop Ratchet from trying to club Optimus offline with a wrench and the chances of Ultra Magnus being able to hold off the irate medic were 0.007% against. Not that his odds 0.020% were much better…

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><p>Optimus inwardly braced himself when he heard the sound of stomping pedes and as such didn't even twitch when Ratchet burst in, shouting profanity and demanding explanations for the 'glitching Decepticon joke of a report'. The enraged CMO was quickly followed by a tense and curt Ultra Magnus and a stoically silent Prowl. Holding up his servos for silence, Optimus hid his rueful smile as he asked, "What appears to be the problem? Ratchet, Ultra Magnus, Prowl?"<p>

Ratchet got the first word in, "What's the problem? The problem is you want to assign Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as guardians! Have you any idea what those two could **do** to those younglings? Both intentionally and not? Optimus!"

Ultra Magnus curtly cut in, "Sir, while I can see the logic behind assigning Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to the twin younglings-"

Ratchet interrupted, "Logic? What logic? **Nothing** involving those two slaggers has anything to do with logic!"

Ultra Magnus continued, shooting Ratchet a dark look as he did so, "The experience will no doubt enhance their maturity level and also cut down on the free time they constantly use for 'pranks'."

Ratchet scowled, "You are, of course, assuming that they won't just shove the mechlings onto another available Autobot and prank anyway."

Prowl stepped into the conversation, "They will be unable to do so, I will have orders issued throughout the base that as long as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are off duty, no one else is to act as the younglings' caretaker unless the base is under attack."

Ratchet huffed, looking back and forth between the two tacticians with an expression of angered disbelief, "I can't believe this!" An argument broke out then and there, with Ratchet refusing to back down on the illegitimacy of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's assigned guardianship, Prowl trying to reason with the medic and Ultra Magnus attempting to get a word in edgewise.

Finally, Optimus decided that his officers had argued with each other for too long and commanded sternly, "**Enough**." At his single word and the accompanying pulse from the Matrix of Leadership, the three arguing officers fell silent. Ratchet glared at him silently, daring the Prime to insist on Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's impending guardianship.

Optimus folded his servos behind his back and matched Ratchet's stare levelly until the medic had to avert his optics, "I am quite serious about every assignment in the report. Aside from the reasons stated by Ultra Magnus, as well as the fact that the twins could use a lesson in caring about others beside themselves, I believe that of all the mechs on base, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are … uniquely positioned to care for Zipline and Fast Track's special needs. They are split spark twins and as such are well acquainted with the idiosyncrasies and needs of such a pair. You stated it yourself once Ratchet, split spark younglings have different needs and raising requirements than normal younglings?"

Ratchet growled, irritated that his own words from a long ago conversation were being used against him now, "Yes. The systems of split spark twins do not take kindly to being separated for any lengthy period of time, their energy consumption is also unusual. There is a host of…" His vocalization trailed off when he realized he was only proving Optimus's point.

Optimus hammered the point home by calmly adding, "In short, a normal mech would often be at a loss on how to care for them. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe however, would not be baffled when it came to the needs of split spark twins. Am I not correct Ratchet?"

Ratchet remained silent for a few breems, his mouth components parted in a silent protest before he finally flung his servos in the air and snarled disgustedly, "**Fine**! But when those two younglings come into my medbay needing repairs because Sideswipe tried to roughhouse with them or Sunstreaker found them in his art stash, it is not my fault!" Ratchet stormed out of the office, muttering something darkly about 'preparing the medbay for the impending cataclysm', leaving Ultra Magnus, Optimus, and Prowl in the office alone.

After waiting until the CMO was well out of audio range, Prowl turned to Optimus and said, "I understand the report and shall make the necessary preparations, sir."

Optimus nodded, "Understood, Prowl. Dismissed." Prowl nodded curtly and left the office, his doorwings bobbing slightly to his clipped stride.

The leader of all Autobots looked over patiently at his subtly fidgeting SiC, "Is there another matter you wish to discuss, Ultra Magnus?"

Ultra Magnus stiffened to rigid attention and said, "Sir, I came to report an error in the report file Motioncap delivered to my office and request a correct copy."

Optimus tilted his helm slightly to one side, "An error? Explain."

Ultra Magnus nodded and slid into an 'at-ease' pose, folding his servos neatly behind his back as he continued, "The report file I received indicated that **I** would be the guardian of the recently arrived femme, Starwish."

Optimus withheld the simultaneous urge to sigh sadly or chuckle at his SiC's discomfort, "That was not an error in the report copy, Magnus. Upon searching through the profiles of all mechs currently on base, I determined it most prudent to assign her to your care. She will be moving into your quarters once Ratchet releases her from the medbay."

Ultra Magnus went stiff again and Optimus spotted his servos clenching quietly behind his tall back, "B-but, sir! I … not to question your judgement, but I have no prior experience in guardianship. Much less the guardianship of a young femling, surely Ironhide and Chromia would be better candidates."

Optimus shook his helm, "No, Ultra Magnus, they would not. For one, they have both made it clear that they still have their servos full with Bumblebee. For another, even if they believed that they had enough time for Starwish, I doubt the wisdom in placing the femling under the care of the femme who shot her brother."

The Prime watched patiently as Ultra Magnus wrestled with the undeniable information, struggling to come up with a solution that did not involve him. _Is he truly so convinced of his inadequacies?_ Ultra Magnus tried a different tactic, "Sir, would it not be seen as highly improper among the other mechs for a femme to reside in my quarters with me-"

Optimus already had an answer ready for that, "Is there not a spare berth room in your quarters?" Ultra Magnus nodded reluctantly, "Then she can stay there. Also, you are a highly respected officer and a former sparkmate, they would not see it as improper at all given the circumstances." The look of pain that flashed over Ultra Magnus's faceplates made Optimus want to snatch his words back, the death of his SiC's sparkmate was still a sensitive subject, even after all the vorns that had passed.

Optimus felt a realization dawn on him, _perhaps that is why … of course. He fears to grow attached to a femme again, even in a Guardian-Ward relationship._ Ultra Magnus was still protesting, though his attempts were growing more and more half-sparked, "Sir, I must protest this assignment as ill-advised. I would not … I am not suited to be a guardian, let alone house a young traumatized femling in my quarters as a ward."

Optimus calmly began to steer Ultra Magnus towards the door, "It is only until Elita-One and the other femmes return and a more suitable solution can be arranged. Besides, I am confidant that you will adapt to the situation in the meantime."

Before any more protests could be voiced by Ultra Magnus, Optimus had dismissed him and shut the door firmly in his faceplates. Wearily striding back to his desk, Optimus Prime sat down and mused to himself. _Ultra Magnus has yet to heal from the loss of his sparkmate … if such an act is possible given the circumstances of her offlining. Still, perhaps assigning Ultra Magnus as Starwish's guardian will serve more then one purpose._ Thinking back on the reports he had received on Starwish's temperament and behavior as well as his own brief meeting with the femling, Optimus nodded to himself, _yes … this might just work… as long as nothing goes irrevocably wrong of course. _

Receiving a sudden panicked com from Red Alert asking for backup in stopping Ratchet from chasing Sunstreaker and Sideswipe around the base with a wrench and a datapad, yelling something about 'teaching them proper youngling care before the debacle begins', Optimus heaved a tired sigh, _such as that._ ::I am on my way, Red Alert.:: _Not that I will be of much help._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: There you go! My very first attempt at one-shot. I hope everyone likes it. Until next time, this is SecretEnigma signing off!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello all! I have finally finished another one-shot for this story! Just in case any clarification is needed, this chapter is set BEFORE the attack on Algol base, before Hardwire's or Starwish's program activation, all that stuff. This takes place somewhere in the two orn period I skipped in order to get to the attack. I wanted to show a few moments I imagined happening in that time period, but couldn't find a place for them in the pace of the main story. So, here is one of the moments I thought up, given a home in Harmonies of a Second Chance. Hope you like it!**

** Review Response: Dear TFAN Override, hi! I am glad it made you laugh and my apologies for taking so long with this update. These one-shots are surprisingly hard to write. It doesn't help matters that I'm a very slow writer when not participating in NaNoWriMo (I have no idea how I get so much work done during that, it's like an entire other part of me finally wakes up and less a hand). Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee that there will be an update on this story anytime soon after this. It depends on whether or not my muses come out of their Fortress of Solitude again (glares in the direction of the impenetrable fortress) I never should have let my villain muses build that thing ... but how was I supposed to know they'd rent out the rooms to my other muses? Anyway, here's a new update for you!**

**Review Response: Dear KHGiggle, hello! Yes, Ratchet will do whatever he deems necessary for the sake of his patients' health. If ****administering a little 'blunt wrench therapy' will make Sunstreaker and Sideswipe realize the importance of their new task, then who is he to deny administering the treatment? (evil snicker). Sorry about the depressing backstory, but it seemed to be the only logical explanation for why he is so cold and socially awkward. Have a twinlings-centric update to cheer you up!**

**Author's Note: I had a lot of fun writing this story. Have I introduced Hound yet? I can't remember. In case I haven't, this story features G1 Hound. The Movie-verse Hound kind of ... I don't know, weirded me out? Though he did have some awesome one-liners in that movie. Anyway, I hope this update finds you well and graced with the holiday spirit! P.S. A little fun fact, parts of this story are actually based off of something that happened to one of my best friends. We can only laugh about years later...**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. The only things I own are my OCs and the plot.**

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><p><strong>Work, Peeps, and Lost and Found.<strong>

**(Set sometime between chapters 14 and 15.)**

Prowl eyed his new assignment warily, his battle computer running through multiple strategies and contingency plans for what he was fairly sure would be the most grueling and sanity threatening four joors of his life. As his battle computer finished finalizing a plan that, should it be followed correctly, would have the least percentage of possible injury or glitching, a small voice said, "So … what are we doing?"

Quietly unsubspacing a Enforcer Model B66 Stun Pistol as an emergency contingency and placing it on his desk, Prowl flicked his doorwings upwards stiffly, "I have work to complete, you will sit over there and not move or speak until I say so." His prisoners scowled as they did as he commanded and sat down. Cautiously lowering his optics to the report he was making, he kept his sensitive scanners trained on the two Cybertronians brooding irritably in front of his desk.

Less than a breem after his order for silence, a voice said, "I'm bored."

Prowl looked up from his report coldly, "I am not here to entertain you. I am here to work and you are here because there were no other available caretakers."

Zipline glared at Prowl's optics vizor, "I'm still bored."

Prowl said firmly, "Then you and your twin will have to entertain yourselves quietly. Did you not bring any reading material?" The question was answered by a blank look from both younglings. Prowl resisted the urge to sigh, _of course not, their guardians are Sunstreaker and Sideswipe after all._

Fast Track stood up in his chair and began reaching for one of Prowl's datapads, "What'cha working on?"

Prowl lightly rapped Fast Track's servo, "The correct phrase is 'what are you' working on and the answer is official reports for Optimus Prime. Do not touch and do not stand on a chair, you could injure yourself."

Fast Track whined and rubbed his servo as he plopped back onto the chair, "Jerk." From behind his vizor, Prowl blinked, what did rapid motion or spasmodic cable movement have to do with the current situation? Also, the tone in which the youngling had said it indicated that he intended it to be an insult. _Perhaps it is a way to avoid getting in trouble when they feel the urge to mimic their guardians and curse? An odd word to choose though._

Staying on the safe side, Prowl scolded, "You will refrain from foul language while in the confines of this office. Am I clear?"

Zipline scowled angrily and shouted, "But that wasn't even a swear!"

Prowl felt his doorwings raise slightly in an instinctive show of dominance at the youngling's continued defiance, "Do not shout in this office and the tone in which your sibling spoke indicated otherwise. You will refrain from such displays in the future or I will be forced to administer punishment."

Both younglings glared at him stubbornly, but fell silent. Believing the twinlings' brash attitudes subdued for the time being, Prowl resumed working on his report. He managed to have three breems of silence before a rapid 'click, click, click' noise disrupted his concentration. Looking up sharply, he saw that Zipline and Fast Track had begun to swing their legs back and forth from the chair, allowing their pedes to lightly collide with the desk in front of them to make the rapid, non-stop, clicking noise.

Prowl looked back down at his datapad, "Cease your actions immediately."

There was a pause in the clicking before it resumed, "What's 'cease' mean?"

Prowl mentally added 'grammar' to the growing list of things to insist that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe teach to their wards. Their constant use of contractions and lack of word knowledge was … irking. Using his stylus to make a footnote under one section of his report, Prowl answered the question, "It means 'stop'."

The pede-to-desk collisions stopped and a moment later Prowl felt a flash of irritation when Fast Track started rhythmically drumming his fingers on his leg, causing Zipline to lightly slap the metal bottom of his chair seat in time with it. Prowl pressed his lip components together thinly, trying to ignore the noise. He was beginning to wonder if Sideswipe had given the twinlings a list of all the things that irked Prowl in some kind of revenge for sentencing Sideswipe to the brig for a metacycle.

Smoothing his faceplates back into a neutral expression, Prowl looked up once again from his datapad and said, "Stop."

Fast Track and Zipline stopped and stared at him darkly. Zipline growled, "Now what?"

Prowl leveled a cold stare at Zipline, who slowly shrunk into a submissive ball. He repeated the process with Fast Track before laying down his office rules as simply and clearly as he could, "I am working on important documents. While in this office you are allowed to entertain yourselves as long as you do not break, borrow, or remove any items from their proper place. Also, you are to remain silent unless it is to inform me of an emergency."

Fast Track whimpered timidly, "What if we get hungry?"

Prowl motioned to his desk, "There are energon cubes in the bottom left drawer of my desk, should you become hungry you may take **one** cube. The cube will contain plenty of energon for you both. But unless a dire situation comes up, such as one of you being injured, you will not speak, click, drum, thump, shout, whisper or hammer the walls. If you need to speak to each other, use your twin bond, but I cannot be disturbed from my work. Understood?"

Zipline raised one servo slightly in question and asked, "Not so much as a whisper?"

Prowl nodded curtly, "Not so much as a whisper starting right now." The twins hunched in their seats, glaring at the floor unhappily as Prowl cautiously resumed his duties as Third in Command and head Security Officer for all of the Autobot forces. The silence this time lasted for ten breems, but something about the silence was making Prowl's doorwings want to twitch. Shoving the urge to one side, Prowl continued his work rigorously, doing his utmost to complete his work speedily in anticipation of the next youngling sparked interruption.

Finishing the sector security evaluations, Prowl moved on to analyzing and condensing the supplies and mech-power statistics of the Autobot western front. His logic center crunched down numbers and percentages almost effortlessly while his stylus made notes on which sector base should be granted a higher priority in their reinforcements requests and supply forms. "Peep." Prowl's mental number crunching hesitated for a split klik at the almost inaudible sound but then resumed as if nothing had happened.

"Peep." One of Prowl's doorwings flicked idly, sensors coming out of sleep mode to try and pick up the sound wave. When the sound didn't repeat, the doorwing sensor slid back into sleep mode to conserve energon. "Peep." Prowl's stylus faltered slightly in its note making as a small part of his processor functions were redirected away from his work to analyze the sound. _A datapad download in all probability. Three beeps signifies a long distance transmission._

Prowl saved his report work and switched his datapad's screen over to incoming data transmissions only to discover it inactive. _So what was?_ "Peep." "Peep." Prowl frowned from behind his vizor and very slowly raised his helm to stare at the twin younglings sitting across his desk. Both of them were sitting in their chairs looking perfectly, overly innocent, a look Prowl had come to identify instantly over vorns of dealing with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

Prowl fastened his most stern information-fetching stare on Zipline, "Are you the ones making that noise?" Zipline shook his helm vigorously, a smile working its way onto his small faceplates that indicated he was lying. Fast Track had an identical smile that was mostly hidden behind the servo he was using to try to smother his giggles.

Prowl's doorwings flicked to a higher position on his back in a subconscious posture of dominance, "Then where is the noise coming from?"

Still the younglings shook their helms emphatically, Zipline now also covering his mouth with a servo as his frame started to shake from suppressed laughter. Realizing that he wasn't going to get a confession in his normal ways, Prowl dipped his doorwings back into a normal position and pretended to resume his work.

It took exactly 5.690 kliks before the twinlings suddenly burst out laughing and shot off of their chairs like two mini plasma rounds. Prowl felt his processor threaten to stall at the illogical sight of the two younglings running in tight, crazed circles yelling 'peep!' repeatedly at the top of their vocalizers.

Shaking his helm to try to clear the buildup of pain caused by his logical center overworking itself attempting to deduce the reasoning behind their actions, Prowl stood up and barked sharply, his doorwings flaring up and outward commandingly, "Enough!"

Instantly, the two younglings froze in place, only daring to move their helms to stare at him with wide optics. Venting once to rein in his temper, Prowl said coldly, "Get in a line."

Zipline and Fast Track shuffled into a sloppy, two youngling line in front of Prowl, pedes pointed inward and shoulders hunched to make them look small and harmless. Prowl did not fall for the ruse, "What was the purpose of you actions just now?"

Zipline's optics shifted around, looking at everything in the room but Prowl as he mumbled something unintelligibly, "Yo ne sa w cou pep." Prowl blinked once, his processor briefly trying to decipher the strange phrase before realizing that Zipline had communicated in what Starwish called, 'twin-speak' a special language that apparently only the twinlings could understand. It sounded like nonsense to him, but he managed to force the illogicality aside in favor of saying, "Speak Cyber-Standard youngling. What was the purpose of your endeavor? I gave instructions not to make a sound. Was I misunderstood?"

There was a pause as the younglings shifted nervously under his gaze, reluctant to say anything. Finally, Fast Track blurted, "You never said we couldn't peep!"

Prowl's processors stilled for a moment before bringing up the relevant memory file and discovering that he had, indeed, failed to include the sound 'peep' in his list of forbidden vocalizations. Resisting the urge to pinch his olfactory sensors in exasperation, Prowl said, "Understood. However, what was the purpose of using that vocalization?"

Zipline cocked his helm to one side, "Huh?"

Prowl carefully rephrased his question, "Why did you feel the urge to 'peep'?"

Zipline shrugged, "Because we're bored."

Prowl's doorwings twitched in irritation at the contraction mentally correcting it with 'we are' before moving back to the subject at servo, "How does making a noise with no purpose alleviate boredom?"

Zipline shrugged again and folded his servos behind his back, " 'Cause it's something to do." Prowl again had to restrain the urge to correct the contractions, his processor calculating a 86.789% chance that doing so would merely give the youngling an excuse to divert the subject from their misbehavior.

Prowl was at a loss at what to do. It was apparent that unless the two younglings were given something to entertain them, they would continue to cause trouble and interrupt his work. However, the only prior experience he'd had in youngling care was when he had had to take care of his little brother, Bluestreak, long before the Great War. Bluestreak had never acted like this, he had always been content to do what Prowl said or amuse himself with something that didn't bother his older brother's training and school. Admittedly, Bluestreak had been a few vorns older than the two miscreants currently squirming under his gaze, but still.

Relenting to the fact that he needed advice on the matter, Prowl attempted to com Ratchet. His requesting ping was quickly repulsed with curses and the explanation that the medic 'was fragging busy patching up the fragging idiot Hound'. With that resource cut off for the time being, Prowl quickly sorted through his other options. Ironhide was on patrol with Dark-Trail, Trailbreaker, and Motioncap. Starwish and Hardwire were currently in the training rooms under Chromia's 'loving' tuition in hand-to-hand and long range combat, and Elita-1 was in a meeting with Optimus Prime.

_Perhaps Cliffjumper? He has volunteered to take care of them several times and has reported no real problems._ It was the only logical option left, so, Prowl activated his com again, ::Prowl to Cliffjumper.::

The response was immediate and clearly surprised, ::Commander Prowl?::

Prowl continued to watch the now **very** nervous and twitchy younglings as he coolly outlined his problem and asked if Cliffjumper had a solution. There was a long pause, the duration of which caused Prowl to suspect that he was either sharing the information with another or laughing about it. Prowl frowned slightly, a motion that caused the younglings to start sniffling from the stress.

Finally, Cliffjumper replied, ::Try giving them a harmless task under the guise of it being a game. Like … filing your datapads or something. That age needs activity or else they can't handle their own processes.::

Prowl blinked from behind his visor, ::They will not be able to comprehend my filing system.::

Cliffjumper sounded amused, ::You can always refile everything later. Or you can have them deliver datapads to their owners, those two do know where most of the offices are. The point is to make them feel useful and entertained.::

Prowl considered this. As irking as it would be to have to find and refile the misplaced datapads, if it earned him relative peace to work… ::Understood, I will attempt the method you have advised.:: Prowl paused then remembered to add, ::Thank you.::

Cliffjumper's laughter was still underlying his voice, ::No problem, sir.::

Ending the internal conversation, Prowl crouched down so that he was closer to the younglings' optic level, his processor running through the best ways to implement Cliffjumper's suggestion. After calculating what he would need to pull the suggestion off and settling on a plan with the highest success percentage, Prowl lowered his doorwings into a more friendly position and asked, "Would assisting me in my work help alleviate your … boredom?"

Zipline and Fast Track glanced first at Prowl, then at each other, obviously surprised that he wasn't punishing them for the 'peep' incident moments before, "That depends. What's alleviate?"

Prowl couldn't stop the grammar correction from slipping out, "The proper way to phrase that question would be 'what does alleviate mean'." Both younglings flinched a little bit at his cold tone. Taking a deep vent, Prowl reminded himself that he was dealing with sixteen vorn old younglings and that their language processors would not be as in depth as an adult's.

He softened his voice as much as he could and said, "Alleviate means 'help to relieve'. Case in point; would helping me with my work relieve your boredom?"

Zipline and Fast Track exchanged glances again and Fast Track asked his twin, "Wha yo thi? Sho w' he'? h' se li a me'"

Zipline eyed Prowl thoughtfully before saying, "W' sho he. h' is s' ba, ju ol." Prowl, who was struggling to either decode the strange babble or push the conundrum it posed to one side for later analyzation, was saved from a processor crash when Zipline turned to Prowl and said, "Okay! How can we help?"

Prowl stood up and motioned for the younglings to climb onto a chair as he swiftly sorted through his datapads, mentally calculating the risks of what he was about to do as he held one of the completed ones out to Zipline and Fast Track, "Do you know where Ultra Magnus's office is located?"

Zipline and Fast Track nodded and Prowl continued, "I need you to take this datapad to him as quickly as possible. Return with any datapads he has for me with the same speed. Can you do that?"

The twinlings faces lit up with excitement as Zipline took the datapad and clutched it to his chest plates, "Sir, yes, sir!" With a united battle cry, the two careened out of his office with the report in search of Ultra Magnus's office.

Prowl was already opening a com channel to the other officers of Prime's command staff, ::Prowl to the command staff, I will have two runners delivering reports for the next few joors. If you have multiple reports to turn in, do so one at a time and wait until they return to give them the next one.::

There was a surprised silence before Jazz piped up, ::Okay, Prowler. But … why?::

Prowl felt a tiny smirk tug at his lip components as he answered, ::Consider it an endurance test. You will understand when you meet the runners. Ultra Magnus, sir, they are currently en route to your office.::

Ultra Magnus sounded puzzled as he answered, ::Understood, Prowl. I will await their arrival.::

The com shut off and Prowl settled down behind his desk, only pausing to pull up security feeds of all the relevant hallways leading to the various command staff offices and workplaces so as to monitor the twinlings' status as he unsubspaced a datapad and set to work on his report at long last.

* * *

><p>Ultra Magnus looked up expectantly as his office door slid open, inwardly curious to see Prowl's new 'runners'. His optics saw nothing but the door sliding shut and he blinked in confusion until his audio receptors registered the cheerful high-pitched yell of, "Ultra Magnus, sir!" Leaning forward, he looked over his desk and stared down at the two younglings standing proudly in front of it in shock. <em>The younglings?<em> Zipline waved a datapad excitedly, nearly smacking it on the metal of the desk as he chattered, "We have this datapad for you, sir! Prowl said we had to get it to you as fast as we could!"

Shaking off his dumbfounded stupor, Ultra Magnus stood up and came around the desk, crouching down to receive the datapad, "Yes … well … very well done. You delivered it quite speedily."

Zipline puffed out his chest plates proudly as Fast Track jigged from one pede to the other and asked, "Prowl told us to ask you for any reports you had for him!"

Remembering Prowl's mystery request, Ultra Magnus took a single datapad from his desk and handed it to them, "Here is a report for Prowl, please take it to him."

Zipline and Fast Track saluted so enthusiastically, their servos bounced off of their helms with a clang, "Yes, sir!" With that, they were off again, racing away with the report firmly clasped in Fast Track's arms.

Ultra Magnus shook his helm in wonderment as he stood up and returned to his chair. Sitting down, he hesitantly commed Prowl, ::Ultra Magnus to Prowl.::

Prowl's response was immediate, ::Reporting, sir.::

Ultra Magnus stared thoughtfully at his door as he said, ::Your … runners arrived and I did as you requested, only giving them one report for the time being. However, I have to ask, what is the purpose of using the younglings as runners? Why only give them one datapad at a time?::

Prowl's voice was as controlled as ever, but Ultra Magnus could have sworn he heard a tinge of satisfaction, ::I am currently in charge of monitoring them. They are currently energetic and would not remain quiet in my office. Therefor, I am giving their access energy a logical outlet by having them deliver reports. The longer it takes them to deliver all of the reports, the more energy they will have expended doing something useful.::

Ultra Magnus nodded to himself, ::I see. Good idea, Prowl.::

Prowl answered neutrally, ::Thank you, sir. However, the idea was not mine, it was Cliffjumper's.::

Ultra Magnus made a mental note of that even as he pointed out, ::Be that as it may, you have implemented it most skillfully so far.::

Prowl's voice had an almost irked edge to it, he did not like to receive praise when he felt it should go to someone else, ::Yes, sir. If you will excuse me, sir, the younglings have returned.::

Ultra Magnus smiled, ::Of course, I will let you get back to directing your runners. Ultra Magnus out.:: Sitting back in his chair slightly, Ultra Magnus pondered Prowl's way of keeping the younglings 'out of his wires'. It was interesting, as long as it continued to work. _We shall see how this turns out._

* * *

><p>Almost a joor later, Prowl's plan was functioning perfectly. The only problems that had arisen so far was when a mech had gotten into an argument with the younglings in the hall for crashing into him, something Prowl had sternly reprimanded the mech for, and when Jazz had tried to dodge 'report duty' by helping the twinlings deliver a datapad to Ratchet. Currently his two tiny runners were going on their longest delivery trip yet and Prowl was keeping a close optic on the monitors. He had sent them to Red Alert's security room to remind him to give him the meta-cycle report and Prowl wanted to make sure that they didn't get sidetracked or run into trouble.<p>

_Once they have completed this delivery, they will probably need energon. _Reaching down, he pulled an energon cube out of the bottom left drawer and placed in on his desk in preparation and, after several moment's debate, unsubspaced two small energon candies from his secret emergency stash and placed them on the desk as well.

Glancing back up at the camera's, Prowl froze, the younglings were gone. With a tiny twitch of his doorwings, he began pulling up other cameras monitoring the area in which the younglings had been. However, none of the cameras provided Prowl with a view of the miniature twins. His logic and battle computers whirred to life, spitting out possibilities on the younglings location and plans on how to confirm their wellbeing. ::Prowl to Red Alert.::

Red Alert's response was instantaneous and, for once, merely curious and not agitated, ::Red Alert here.::

Prowl pulled up more camera views, widening his search pattern, ::Have Zipline and Fast Track arrived in your office with a datapad?::

Red Alert's voice took on a concerned edge, ::No … should they?::

By now, Prowl was becoming concerned, the only cameras he did not have access to on the base was the ones in the security room because of Red Alert's paranoia. If Zipline and Fast Track were not in Red Alert's office-come-sanctuary, then how was he unable to find them on the cameras? Prowl answered Red Alert absently, ::I cannot find them on the monitors, they should have arrived by now.::

Red Alert's tone indicated he that he was beginning to suffer from his paranoia glitch, ::We have to find them! Do you think they've been kidnapped? Could Decepticons have infiltrated?::

Prowl set his datapad aside, ::Negative. The probability of them being kidnapped and completely removed from the premises within five kliks is astronomical. They have simply moved into an area not covered by the cameras.::

Red Alert cut the com line and Prowl knew that the glitch had once again taken over the other mech's higher logic functions, tainting everything with suspicious readings and possible traps. The mech would be of no help in finding the missing twinlings.

With a vaguely disgruntled noise, Prowl considered his options. He needed to find Zipline and Fast Track and ensure they were safe, so either he could leave his work and search the base himself, or he could enlist help of some kind. With a faint sigh, Prowl opened the private frequency of the one mech he was sure could find them, ::Prowl to Jazz.::

* * *

><p>Jazz trotted down the hallway, scanners fully prepped and ready to spot anything even remotely shaped like a youngling. He couldn't suppress a large grin from showing on his faceplates as he searched every nook and corner of the area in which Zipline and Fast Track had last been seen.<p>

He wasn't incredibly worried about the twins, Bumblebee had pulled disappearing acts more then a few times when he was the twinlings age, usually by climbing into a ventilation shaft and falling asleep in a random location. The two had most likely just done the same thing and Prowl was worrying unnecessarily.

However, Prowl was worried enough to volunteer to do the rest of Jazz's report work should the First Lieutenant aid in discovering Zip and Track's whereabouts, so who was he to complain? Looking for younglings was much more enjoyable than sitting at a desk writing boring old reports.

His optics spotted something, breaking him out of his contemplation, and he crouched down to inspect his find. The grate that covered the floor level ventilation shaft was loose. The clamps holding it over the opening had been pried loose and then sloppily placed back on in a manner that clearly suggested that the bot doing it had been inside the shaft. _Called it._

Jazz pulled up a schematic of the ventilation system in the base and frowned underneath his visor when he saw just how many other openings there were nearby. _The little slaggers could exit the shaft through any of these before I have time to look. _Standing up, Jazz began trotting to the nearest possible youngling exit, not at all ashamed as he opened a Special Ops only channel, ::Jazz ta Buffer, Bulletpoint, an' Whitestrike, I got a job for yah.::

Buffer was the one who verbally responded, but Jazz could sense that the other two were listening in, ::Here. What's the sit-rep?::

Jazz looked up at the ceiling grate, scanning it carefully for signs of the younglings or whether they had passed by, ::Zip and Track have dropped off tha grid and entered the vent shafts. I can't cover all of the exits, so Ah want yah all to keep an optic out for 'em. Buff, take base sectors five through seven. Bullet, yah check one through four. Whitestrike, keep doing yah perimeter patrol, but pay attention to the shafts leading ta tha rest of tha city. I don' want those two getting out of tha base. Clear?::

There was a chorus of affirmatives as the Special Operations mechs immediately set about their appointed tasks. Jazz had moved on to his third grate by this time, with no luck in spotting the younglings. With a tiny quick of his lips, Jazz sidestepped a passing mech, ignoring the look he got as he jumped up and grabbed the grate, lifting himself up to physically peer inside the shaft. Seeing nothing of importance, Jazz dropped back to the ground silently. _Wonder why those two would drop the mission Prowl gave them and enter the shaft anyway? They seemed thrilled as scraplets as a metal convention to run around giving bots datapads._

* * *

><p>Fast Track wiggled down the ventilation shaft after his brother, trusting his twin to lead him in the right direction. Zipline paused at an intersection, helm cocking to one side in a listening pose. Fast Track mirrored the motion, listening intently for the sound of their target. A rasping, clattering noise sounded to their left and the two took off again hastily. Fast Track was agitated and angry, the stupid mini-robot dog had <strong>eaten<strong> the datapad Prowl had given them to deliver! Eaten it! At first it had been cool to see a little robot puppy come wiggling out of the ventilation shaft, wagging its tiny metal tail, but when Zipline had dropped the datapad out of surprise, the puppy had run over and swallowed it whole before disappearing back down the shaft.

Zipline had led the pursuit immediately, only pausing to tell Fast Track to close the grate again, just like the spies did in the movies. Fast Track had done his best and was now following his brother in a desperate attempt to catch the datapad devouring metal mutt.

Fast Track whined softly at the thought of what kind of trouble they'd get into if they couldn't recover the datapad, but was shushed by his brother over their bond, _"Quiet, Track! We can't let the puppy know that we're following it! We need to be quiet like ninjas. Blend in to our surroundings."_

Fast Track glanced around at the bland silver walls of the ventilation shaft then down at his own colorful paint job that Sunstreaker had taken to obsessively shining for him, _"I … think that might be a little hard to do, Zipline. I'm bright red and you're bright green."_

Zipline sent the equivalent of a dismissive wave over their bond, _"Mind set, Fast Track, mind set. Remember what Rodney always said? 'If you believe firmly enough that you can achieve something, then nothing is really impossible.' So, if we believe that we blend in with our surroundings, we can."_

Somehow, Fast Track got the vague impression that Zipline's logic was faulty somewhere in that declaration. But, his twin's confidence was telling and Fast Track decided to trust Zipline's opinion on the matter. So, the pursuit of the metal puppy continued, with Fast Track trying to simultaneously keep up, be quiet, and blend in to his silver surroundings so as to not be seen.

As they squirmed around a corner, Zipline clicked in surprise and paused, looking up in surprise. Fast Track followed his gaze and clicked as well, the vent had grown in size considerably! Propping himself up, Zipline looked over his shoulder and flashed a smile at his twin, blue optics lighting the darkness eerily, _"Come on! We can move faster if we crawl!"_

Getting on their servos and knees, the two began crawling rabidly down the larger ventilation shaft. Had they been in their third or final frame, they would have still had to wiggle along on their stomach plating, but as it was, they could almost crouch in the space now afforded them. Zipline's smug confidence oozed over to Fast Track, making him grin along with his twin, they would surely catch that puppy now! Once they caught it, they would get their datapad back and deliver it to Red Alert like they were told to. Prowl wouldn't know any better and he might even give them an energon candy!

Rounding another corner and climbing up a slippery metal slope, Fast Track heard Zipline give a triumphant hiss, _"It left out of that grate! Come on!"_

Zipline scurried ahead, now heedless of the noise he was making as he rushed to the hole in the floor where the grate had been and peered down it. Fast Track crawled next to him and looked down. Instantly, he felt the fluid running in his lines freeze and his spark pick up a crazy rhythm as he felt his optics become riveted on the floor that seemed very, very, **very** far away. His tanks churned, threatening to eject what was left of his breakfast because of the fear squeezing his tanks mercilessly.

Fast Track feared heights with a passion. He had ever since he could remember. Zipline had no problem with heights, he even enjoyed them to a certain extent, climbing trees, fences, anything that offered him a good view of the world. Fast Track only climbed as an absolute necessity, like getting away from the bully next door or helping Zipline retrieve his kite when it got stuck. But even the oak tree back home did not put him as high up as he was now. This height caused his normal discomfort and reluctance to turn into paralyzing terror.

Zipline whined and shivered next to him, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of Fast Track's terror of how high up he was. Zipline tried to soothe his brother instinctively, coaxing and whispering and pointing to the object of their pursuit in hopes of goading Fast Track into jumping down. If didn't look too high to him after all. Fast Track didn't respond verbally, he couldn't. He couldn't even form coherent words over their bond. All he could do was send his impression of wordless terror to his twin and the firm, if unspoken, declaration that he was Not. Moving.

Zipline shrugged off Fast Track's fear with a snort and a whisper of, "Scaredy cyber-cat. I'm going to get that datapad back." Fast Track shakily managed to lift his optics away from the terrifying distance between himself and the floor to stare pleadingly at Zipline. Zipline couldn't think of going down there, he'd be killed for sure! Even if he somehow survived the fall, which Fast Track doubted he would, the robot puppy would probably bite his head off!

Zipline snorted at Fast Track's expression, "I'll be fine. **I'm **not afraid." Inching forward, Zipline started to lower himself out of the open vent, reaching out as far as he could to try to grab the dangling grate and use it as a partial makeshift ladder. Fast Track watched mutely as his brother strained to reach the grate, wiggling out even further over the opening when his arm refused to stretch far enough.

Soon, he was dangling halfway out of the opening, one servo grasping the edge of the square hole to keep his balance as the fingers of his other servo wiggled wildly as if to call the stubbornly far away grate to him. Of course, it was at that moment the robot puppy looked up, spotted Zipline, and began to bark as loudly as it could.

The noise shocked Zipline into automatically kicking his legs forwards, propelling him over the edge and into open air. His fingers slid into the bars of the grate and hooked there instinctively. His other servo flailed out and grabbed at the grate as he slammed against it and jerked to a stop in mid-air.

Fast Track felt his spark leap into his throat tubing as he watched what he was sure was going to be his brother's death. His fear for himself and his brother, as well as the fact that his lowering energy levels reduced his youthful need to prove himself to adults, caused him to give the universal call for assistance.

He screamed. Loudly. Zipline immediately joining in as the short fall and Fast Track's terror finally overrode his own confidence and spawned fear of heights and barking robot puppies in his spark.

* * *

><p>Jazz was just beginning to wonder if the twinlings had fallen asleep somewhere in the ventilation shaft and if he was going to have to crawl in after them when he heard screaming. He had heard lots of screaming in his time, from his days as an entertainer in Helix to the battlefields of the war currently waging all around. He knew the meanings carried wordlessly in screams and knew that this was no scream of mere surprise or even pleasure. The twins were screaming in pure terror.<p>

His spark leapt in its chamber wildly as his scanners and battle computer went into overdrive at the realization and his pre-programed parental subroutines began clamoring to find the younglings right fragging now. The sound came from somewhere in the ventilation system, the tunnels echoing and bouncing the sound until it was impossible to determine where the twinlings were.

His comlink and audios were assaulted by the voices of startled and concerned mechs as the sound carried a ridiculous distance in the base. Setting everyone who heard it into a panicked state of alertness as their parental subroutines and battle computers kicked into overdrive as well.

Jazz activated his specialty scanners, the ones he normally only used when on a sabotage mission deep behind enemy lines. The scanners analyzed the terrified screaming, determining which direction it was coming from the most strongly as well as picking up another faint sound wave that happened with concussive regularity. Jazz set off at a dead run, mechs falling in behind him as they all tried to somehow arrive at the scene of the disaster no later then ten breems ago.

Skidding around a corner, Jazz's scanners began picking up energon traces in the vents above, he had the trail of the twinlings. Following it as fast as his pedes could carry him and gathering an ever larger following of concerned, weapon-wielding mechs, Jazz barreled into the barracks section of the base. Optics flicking back and forth, following a trail only his vizor could see, the sound of terrified screams grew louder, closer, as did the another sound. This sound wasn't drawn out and continuous like the screams, it was a quick rapid succession of short reports, almost like a blaster going off.

Jazz's tank churned at the sudden thought that someone might be **shooting** at the twins and his favorite acid pellet gun, a gift from Prowl, dropped out of his subspace immediately. ::Jazz to any Spec Ops bot on base, rendezvous on my location **now**!:: The pellet gun replaced his left servo as the energon trail came to an end and the unique presence of one spark signature in two frames came up on his vizor scanner. They were in one of the barrack rooms.

Slamming his right servo into the interface of the door lock and ignoring the shrill wail of the base wide alarm Red Alert had just set off, Jazz shattered the lock's coding with brutal mental efficiency, forcing the door open with a speed even he hadn't been aware he possessed when it came to hacking.

The door started to slide open and was Jazz diving through it before it had a chance to fully open, his systems in full combat mode as he prepared to demolish whatever it was that was shooting at the twins. However, almost as soon as he entered the room, Jazz slid to a stunned stop, causing several of the following mechs to crash into each other in the doorway so as not to knock him flat with their larger frames.

He had been more than half expecting to see a snarling Decepticon standing there with his blaster primed to snuff tiny sparks and a snarl on his faceplates as he tried to shoot the younglings who had no doubt ruined his infiltration attempt. Instead … he saw a small Search and Find drone modeled in the shape of a petro-puppy looking up at something on the ceiling and using the recording of a blaster shot to bark.

His optics trailed up to the ceiling and he nearly went into spark-shock at the sight of Zipline dangling in mid-air, fingers clinging to the swinging vent grate as his little legs kicked wildly. It wasn't all that far to the floor, if Zipline let go and fell, the most he would get for it would be scuffs and maybe a dent in his after-plating. However, expression on the youngling's faceplates showed that Zipline believed that he was hanging over a fatal precipice.

Jazz realized all of this within the space of two kliks and in another two was underneath Zipline, calling up to him, "Zip! Track! Ah'm here! It's okay!"

Zipline wailed inconsolably, optics squeezed tightly shut as the stupid Search and Find drone continued to 'blaster-bark'. From within the ventilation shaft, Fast Track wailed even more loudly than his twin. More mechs shuffled into the room and one angrily snatched up the S.A.F drone, clamping a servo firmly on over its muzzle and flipping it over to find and press its off switch.

The drone powered down as Buffer shoved his way through the crowd of confused mechs and snatched Zipline away from the grate with agile servos. Silently passing the crying youngling to a mildly surprised Jazz, Buffer stood on the tip of his pedes and snatched Fast Track from out of the ventilation shaft. The other mechs crowded around, shouting questions and demanding to know if Zipline and Fast Track were okay. The noise only served to frighten them more and Buffer, in a rare show of temper, roared over the inner comlink, ::Everybot who isn't their guardians, the owner of this room, or Special Ops, shut up and **get out**!::

Silence fell instantly and with obvious reluctance, mechs began to shuffle away. Soon the only adult bot left other than Jazz and Buffer was a very sheepish looking Hound. Jazz growled his engine softly, ::Prowl is gonna hear all about this Hound. Yah know thah pets aren't allowed.::

Hound shifted nervously from pede to pede, ::Technically, drones are allowed and this is a drone so I thought…:: His voice trailed off when he saw the heated glares he was getting from the two Spec Ops bots as they tried to soothe the shaking younglings.

Jazz looked down at the youngling curled in his arms and sighed, this was getting them nowhere, Zipline and Fast Track showed no signs of calming down even if they were no longer screaming their helms off. The base alarm outside wasn't helping matters. ::Jazz ta Red Alert, ya can turn off the alarm now. We got the situation under control.::

After arguing with Red Alert for two breems, Jazz huffed in irritation and glanced at Buffer, silently signaling for him to take over the calming of their 'favorite' security officer while he called in backup on the youngling front, ::Jazz ta Starwish.::

Starwish answered immediately, ::Jazz? What's going on? Why is the base alarm going off? Did I hear screaming earlier? Are the twinlings okay? What-?::

Jazz smoothly interjected into her rapid-fire speech, ::Easy, Star. Just a false alarm is all. But Zipline and Fast Track got themselves scared out of their processors by Hound's glitched pet drone an they won't stop crying. Ah don't suppose you could come to these coordinates and calm 'em down?::

There was a pause and Jazz wondered if she was getting permission from Chromia to leave the sparring lesson. She sounded very serious as she finally replied, ::I'm on my way.::

About three breems later, Starwish and Hardwire hurried into the room, the latter plopping the twins on Hound's berth with Starwish gently soothed them with a strange sound pattern she called _humming_. It was a pretty sound really, Jazz would have enjoyed listening to it if it hadn't been for the current situation.

Once the twins were no longer crying, Starwish asked gently, "What were you two doing up there anyway? You could have gotten hurt. Besides, I thought you were supposed to be with Prowl."

Zipline sniffed a little, his cooling fans hiccuping as they slowly settled from their recent overworking, "The datapad…"

Starwish glanced in confusion at Jazz, who shrugged helplessly and glanced at Prowl, who had arrived almost at the same time Starwish did. Prowl's doorwings were rigid as he explained, "I was giving the younglings the opportunity to exercise by having them deliver datapads to the other officers. I was monitoring them on the cameras when they abruptly disappeared into the ventilation system."

Starwish turned back to the twinlings, "Why were you in the vent shafts, twinlings? Did you get lost?" Jazz inwardly wondered how anyone could 'get lost' enough to go from the hallways to the ventilation shaft.

Zipline shook his helm, "No! We were chasing that stupid puppy!"

Fast Track glared at the deactivated drone in Hound's servos, "I-it ate the datapad Prowl gave us! We had to g-get it back! B-but then the floor was so far away… I told Zip not to try and climb down but he wouldn't listen! Then that puppy started to bark and Zipline almost fell and … and…" His voice trailed off as Starwish shushed him gently.

Hardwire glared silently at Hound who, after a bit of fumbling, opened the hatch on the drone's back and peered in side, "Well, fr- friction. There is a datapad in here." He carefully pulled out the item in question, looking rather shamefaced at the trouble his pet had caused.

Jazz resisted the urge to slap his faceplates. All that trouble and panic because of a glitched Search and Find drone. It was no wonder the Decepticons thought they were inefficient. Sometimes Jazz almost found himself agreeing with them. Hardwire shook his helm and picked up the twins, "If you will excuse us, these two need to refuel."

Starwish trailed after her brother, only pausing to shoot Prowl a deadly look that was even more terrifying than Ratchet's before disappearing out the door. Prowl's doorwings twitched in surprise at the look and Jazz's private com frequency pinged. Accessing the ping, Prowl's voice queried softly in his helm, ::Why was she glaring at me?::

Jazz felt a chuckle well up in his throat as he commented dryly, ::Let's just say yah won't have to worry about being stuck on youngling duty again, Prowler.::

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for the two younglings to refuel and then drop off into recharge. When they woke up, it was if the entire situation had never happened. But the adults did not forget so easily. They had learned a valuable lesson about the care of mischievous, over-adventurous younglings.<p>

And Jazz was correct. By a mysterious coincidence, Prowl's name never again came up on the roster for 'youngling duty'.


End file.
